


Head Over Feet

by psalmoflife



Category: The Avengers (2012)
Genre: Developing Relationship, Fix-It, Forgiveness, Friends With Benefits, Friends to Lovers, Getting Together, Gratuitous Use of Ellen DeGeneres, Kink Meme, M/M, Phil Has A Cat, Relationship Misconceptions
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-03-04
Updated: 2013-03-04
Packaged: 2017-12-04 06:25:06
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,968
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/707558
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/psalmoflife/pseuds/psalmoflife
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Phil thinks that his 'death' will be an easy way to separate himself from his friends-with-benefits situation with Clint (at least, easier than telling Clint he wants more and being told no). And then a talk-show interview reveals that Clint didn't just see them as friends.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Head Over Feet

**Author's Note:**

> Written for a prompt at the kink meme (http://avengerkink.livejournal.com/15292.html?thread=33025468#t33025468) where Phil lets Clint think that he's dead, not realizing that they both wanted something more from their friends-with-benefits situation. 
> 
> I have used incredibly silly things as relationship devices before, but Ellen DeGeneres and Kate-the-Cat might be new levels of ridiculous. 
> 
> Rated for swearing and mentions of sexual content.

Phil falls backwards into the nest of pillows, pulling on Clint’s shoulders to bring the broader man fully on top of him. Clint is always loose and pliable immediately post-orgasm, will go wherever Phil nudges him, and it’s these moments of sleepy cuddling that get Phil through the week. 

Given the choice, he would take extra cuddle time over the sex, but he knows that’s not what Clint wants. Clint is unquestionably the most gorgeous man Phil has ever seen, a sentiment he knows is shared by most everyone at SHIELD, and, consequently, Clint can have whoever he wants, whenever he wants them. Phil is convenient, a trusted friend with similar preferences to Clint. That’s all. 

But Phil’s heart hasn’t quite gotten the message, and he treasures the feel of Clint’s forehead pressed into his sternum, archery-callouses tracing along Phil’s hip. 

Were it anyone else he would suggest, after nearly three years of friendly sex, that something more serious might be in order. But that’s not what Clint wants.

\---

Dying is surprisingly easy.

Nick is sincerely apologetic when he comes to visit Phil in the hospital with the beginnings of a replacement set of cards. Phil’s more than a little annoyed about the property destruction, but he can’t argue with the results. His last memory before the explosion is of listening to the Avengers argue over his ear piece and quietly panicking over Clint’s whereabouts. Since he woke up, he’s spent hours watching the news footage, marveling at how seamlessly the team has come together. 

He knows that Nick has something to ask of him, can read the guilt in his old friend’s shoulders, and isn’t all that surprised when Nick sighs and says “I need you to stay dead.” 

Phil takes a moment to consider his options. He’s going to be bedridden long enough that Fury will have to replace him, anyway. He’s not especially attached to his apartment, and his cat, Kate, will move with him. He likes his co-workers, but the ones he’s closest to, Nick and Maria and Jasper, he’ll still be in touch with via email as he works remotely.

Thinking of Clint gives him pause. Somewhere over the last few years, his stolen hours with Clint have become the high points to his week. It’s not just the sex, either. Clint flat-out refuses to work out of his assigned desk, often doing paperwork sprawled out on the floor of Phil’s office. Since he’s around so much, they often step out together for lunch or coffee. It had been a 3:00am donut run that had led to their first tumble into bed.

But Anderson Cooper just told him that all the Avengers have been seen coming and going from Stark Tower, meaning Clint won’t be around SHIELD anymore. The plan was always to let the team gel, and to do that, Clint and Natasha can’t take extra SHIELD missions.

Thinking about going back to his office without tripping over Clint’s shoes, of going back to his apartment after his sheets lose the scent of Clint’s cologne, has him saying yes.

\---

Being dead isn’t so bad.

SHIELD has set him up in an apartment in Philadelphia. His neighbors think that he’s a freelance writer, which helps explain why Phil works from home with a series of top-of-the-line computers. He doesn’t get out much, mostly spending his free time with Kate and tracking the Avengers. 

He tells himself that it’s just part of his job, that enough of his cases get handed over to the team that it’s important he be aware of their growing abilities, but really he’s just as much of a fan as the little boy who lives down the hall and delights in showing Phil his Avengers school supplies. He may not be working with them anymore, but they still feel like _his_ team, and he likes to know what’s going on with them. 

When the first anniversary of the Battle of New York (now known as Avengers Day) approaches, the team starts getting even more press time. There’s the usual news coverage of their more public missions, but they also start making interview appearances. Phil knows it’s a marketing strategy to build goodwill before the next explosion, can practically see Nick and Pepper debating the merits of various hosts, but it doesn’t change the fact that he gets to see the team in a more relaxed setting. 

It really is a smart media move, he decides. Tony and Bruce are sent off together and balance each other out well, taping a segment of a popular educational show on PBS and making fun of each other on The View. Steve and Thor take a week off of Avenging to head up a Habitat for Humanity build and to make the rounds on the day time talk show circuit, even pulling Oprah out of retirement for a special segment. 

Natasha and Clint, who clearly have succumbed to the most media training, get sent to the late-night shows. Natasha skips about in deadly looking heels, tricking the hosts into thinking she’s charming. Phil isn’t sure if the hosts are scared of her, or if the questions were pre-screened, but it’s the first set of interviews that he’s seen her do where she isn’t accused of dating another Avenger.

Clint, though. Clint is perfect.

Phil can admit that he’s a little biased, but Clint is absolutely nailing this interview. He’s been sent to Ellen DeGeneres, and opens up the segment by dancing with her the same way he used to dance his way in to SHIELD briefings. He sounds completely sincere when he congratulates Ellen on her move to an evening spot, and is open (for Clint, anyway) about his childhood and the circus, the path that led him to SHIELD.

Phil almost turns off the TV when Ellen starts asking about his personal life, because Phil doesn’t particularly want to hear about Clint’s latest conquest, but something in Clint’s face gives him pause. The flash of raw pain before he looks back up at the cameras makes Phil feel the worst he has all year. 

“I’m not actually seeing anyone,” he finally says. 

Ellen must have caught the look on his face too, because she prompts, “Bad breakup?” 

Clint smiles ruefully. “No, I- I was seeing this guy, who was,” Clint laughs a little, “He was the love of my life, really. But, um, he died during the Battle of New York.”

The audience is absolutely silent, a quick camera pan showing fingers over mouths, tears forming in sympathy. Ellen offers a quiet “I’m so sorry,” gives Clint a moment to recover. 

Clint rubs his palms over his thighs before tangling his fingers together in his lap. “Anyway, I really miss him, you know? And everyone keeps saying it’ll get easier, but it’s not. So now I’m just trying to accept that I might not ever get over him.” 

Shit.

Forget earlier- _this_ is the worst Phil has felt all year.

\---

He’s on a four-way teleconference the next day with Nick, Jasper, and Maria, when he blurts out “I need to come back.” 

Nick heaves a sigh. Maria makes a triumphant noise and declares that Jasper owes her ten bucks. 

Later, on a private call, Nick asks Phil if he’s sure.

“The team will stay together either way,” Nick says. “That’s not what I’m worried about. But you’re not just going to be able to waltz back in and have everything go back to normal.”

“I know,” Phil says softly. “But I have to try.” 

\---

Phil had planned on saying something deadpan as he walked into the briefing room, something to the extent of how rumors of his death had been greatly exaggerated, but Natasha knocks him out before he has the chance.

He comes to in a hospital bed, surrounded by the cacophony of yelling super heroes. Nick is there, too, but he isn’t yelling back. Maybe he figures he deserves it. 

Clint isn’t there. Phil knows he should be paying attention to the multiple people in the room who could kill him (for real, this time), but Clint isn’t there. Why isn’t Clint there?

Natasha, being Natasha, notices that he’s awake before anyone else. “You unimaginable bastard,” she hisses. “How could you do this?” 

Phil thinks she’s getting ready to hit him again when Steve yanks her backwards. “Stand down, Nat,” he mutters, then turns to Phil. “I’d say it’s good to see you again, but I’m not actually sure it is.”

Phil winces. He deserves that. “I deserve that,” he says. “I’m sorry. We thought- I thought- that this was necessary. That the team wouldn’t come together without a push.” There’s a little bit of a creak from the ceiling, so Phil pitches his voice a little louder. “I certainly never thought anyone would still be thinking about me a year later.” 

Steve, Bruce, and Tony look dubious. Natasha, though- Natasha looks horrified. 

“How could you say that?” She slaps him across the face- at least it’s just a slap, not another concussing blow- and storms from the room. 

\---

When he wakes up the next morning, Clint is in the chair next to his bed, staring at his knees. 

“Hey,” Phil says, pitching his voice soft. 

Every muscle in Clint’s body tenses before he brings his eyes up to meet Phil’s. “Hey.” 

They sit in silence for a long moment, then Clint says, “Why’d you do it?” 

Phil gives him a humorless smile. “You needed the push,” he says. “We didn’t know how big Loki’s army was, but we knew that the earth needed the full team. With all the fighting and the egos, you- they- needed a common cause. I was going to be sidelined for months anyway, so the Director asked me to be that push.” Phil pauses, waits for Clint to meet his eyes again. “I never imagined any of you would miss me this much.” 

All the color drains out of Clint’s face. “Are you fucking kidding me?” he spits out. “Just what the hell kind of person do you think I am? How could I _not_ miss you?” 

Phil swallows around the lump in his throat. “You know how perfect you are,” he says. “I thought that you would find someone else.” _Already had someone else._

Clint’s hands are shaking. “Look, I get that I was just your boy toy, but you really meant something to me, you know?” His voice breaks a little, his head dropping into his hands. “God, I loved you so much.” 

Phil doesn’t even know where to start- boy toy? Loved? “Loved?” he asks. 

He’s glad that he kept the hopeful note out of his voice, because Clint says “Yeah, well, the man I thought I loved would have never done something like this,” and storms out of the room. 

\---

Clint avoids him for the next month.

Phil… lets him. He knows that they need to talk but clearly they both have some things to sort through, and Phil doesn’t want Clint distracted while he’s dealing with the on-and-off attacks on army bases by a ring of weapons traffickers. 

But Clint _is_ distracted, is missing shots he should be making easily, and when he ends up in Medical because he let a mercenary sneak up on him Phil decides that they need to talk.

\---

“We need to talk,” Phil says.

Clint won’t meet his eyes, but he doesn’t disagree, so Phil keeps going.

“I think it’s pretty clear that we had different assumptions about our… relationship. About what was happening between us.” Clint huffs a breath out of his nose, but still doesn’t disagree. “So I wanted to tell you my side of the story.”

Phil takes a deep breath, then says “I never would have guessed that you were interested in something serious. You had so many friends, so many admirers- I thought I was just convenient. Someone that you could sleep with and not have any expectations.” There’s something different in the set of Clint’s jaw, but he’s still not talking, so Phil decides to finish. “I thought that I was more emotionally invested than you were, and that if I told you how I felt, you’d blow me off.” That, finally gets Clint to look at him. “Clearly I was wrong.” 

There’s raw pain in Clint’s voice when he says, “Yeah, well, I can see how sleeping with the resident slut would be confusing.” 

Phil feels like he’s been punched in the stomach. “Clint-“

“No. We’re sharing feelings, you’re going to hear me out. You had this perfect life, with your perfect office and your perfect apartment, and any time someone asked you why you weren’t married you said you didn’t have time to date, that you were happy with your cat. So I don’t think it was that irrational for me to assume that you were keeping me around just to scratch an itch, and that you didn’t want anything serious.”

The silence stretches out, both men staring into different corners of the room. 

“Can we start over?” Phil finally asks. 

“I don’t know.” 

\---

Phil has every intention of following up on that “I don’t know,” but the team enters the room before he has the chance, and then there’s a series of missions, and then Kate needs emergency surgery.

He’d feel silly for being so worried about his cat, except Clint’s right when he says that Phil often refers to Kate as his only family, and he hates seeing her in so much pain. When the vet lets her go Phil starts bringing her to work with him, letting her curl up in the patch of sun by the window while he works. 

Word that there’s a cat in Phil’s office must spread fast, because Clint comes to visit that afternoon. “Hey, Katie-Kate,” he says, rubbing his fingers between her ears. 

Phil tries not to be jealous that the first time Clint’s been in his office in over a year is to see his cat. “She’s missed you,” he says. 

Clint glances over at Phil, gives Kate a fond smile. “I missed you too, baby girl.”

Phil’s not entirely sure that they’re talking about the cat.

\---

Her stay at the vet’s office has given Kate some extreme separation anxiety, to the point that the other senior agents start complaining to Phil about all the noise that Kate makes when he leaves her in his office for a meeting. 

Clint solves the problem by appearing in his office five minutes before he needs to be anywhere, flopping down onto the floor with a book or his tablet and ignoring Phil’s attempts at thanks. 

One day Phil comes back from a meeting to find Clint asleep on his stomach, Kate curled up in the small of his back and purring up a storm. 

Phil catches the door before it slams, then leans back against it, fighting down the want and need and _please_ at the reminder of long, lazy days in his old apartment, Clint teasing Kate with a laser pointer or some catnip. 

He’s so lost in his memories that when Clint asks him “What are you thinking?” Phil automatically replies, “You’re beautiful.” 

Two spots of color appear high on Clint’s cheeks, his eyes fluttering open to meet Phil’s. 

Phil slowly crosses the room, lays down on his stomach next to Clint. “I’m sorry,” he says. “I’ll never stop being sorry.”

“Yeah,” Clint says. “Me too.” 

It should be awkward, being side by side on the floor, but it’s the most normal Phil’s felt since he came back.

\---

It’s late enough in the day that they don’t get much time before Kate crawls down in between them, batting at Phil’s nose. Clint laughs. “Someone wants her dinner,” he says, scuffing his fingers in the fur around her neck. 

“Want to join us?” Phil asks, reaching for Kate’s neck to tangle their fingers together. 

Clint gives him a long look. “Yeah.”

\---

It isn’t easy.

Natasha thinks that Clint is an idiot for giving Phil a second chance, and makes a point of telling him so. 

Everyone else seems to think that it’s none of their business, though Stark makes enough jokes about Clint dating zombies that Phil knows that they’re actively following the situation. 

It’s awkward, starting to date someone that you thought you knew so well. Phil discovers that Clint actually hates coffee, had drank it Before simply because it was an easy way to spend time with Phil. Similarly, Phil has to tell Clint that he actually hates eating in the mess, hates how exposed he feels, and that he used to join Clint there for lunch because he knew Clint was chafing at being in his office all day.

They spend a lot of time in Phil’s new apartment, enough space between them on the couch for Kate to curl up between their thighs, holding hands over her back. 

They sleep together without _sleeping_ together, comfortable with touch in drowsy moments in ways that still feel strange when they’re fully awake. 

One morning they wake up spooned together, Phil clutching at Clint’s arms when Clint tries to pull away. “Clint,” he says, angling his hips backwards. “Please.” 

Phil had assumed that sex would be awkward, but it really, really… isn’t. 

Their history means that they know each other’s bodies well, their erogenous zones and preference for positions having been the only parts of their relationship where they were truly honest. Phil uses every trick he knows about Clint’s body to make him moan, whispering more apologies into his skin. 

After, when Clint cuddles into Phil the same way he always had, Phil wraps his arms around him, pulls him close. 

“Please don’t let me go,” Clint whispers.

Phil’s arms tighten even more. “Never.”


End file.
